Richard Halliburton was a misfit, a rebel, in an America that was coming of age in the world. In the 1920s and 1930s he was one of the most famous persons in America, even more than Amelia Earhart, and today he is forgotten.
He knew many people who would not fit in the handy boxes society offered them. Paul Mooney sailed across the Pacific with him in a Chinese junk. Moye Stephens flew as a stunt pilot in Howard Hughes' silent movies. Elly Beinhorn was Germany's Amelia Earhart. Pancho Barnes founded the Happy Bottom Riding Club. Halliburton met history makers like Lenin's widow and the man who shot the Czar. He chatted with Herbert Hoover, was friends with F. Scott Fitzgerald. Available at Amazon. Also available at Barnes & Noble or other book stores.

Thomas Merton: The Only Known Photograph of God

An avowed rationalist, W.C. Fields was reading a Gideon Bible in a hotel room when his manager entered. "Bill," said the manager, "What the hell are you doing? I thought you were an atheist."
"Just looking for loopholes," said Fields. "Just looking for loopholes."

A Dance to the Secrets of Time and Motion: The Pendulum Wave

Notice that at first the swinging balls form a line, then fall out of sync, forming snakes, squiggles and spirals. Our brains are wired to predict everyday behavior. We need math to understand this. Yet the world blunders on, trusting what is comfortably predictable.

Bats & Echolocation: Ben Underwood Clicks His Tongue To See

Fugue:
My soul is like a hidden orchestra; I do not know which instruments grind and
play away inside of me, strings and harps, timbales and drums. I can only
recognize myself as a symphony.
—Fernando Pessoa, The Book of DisquietCounter Fugue:
What I cannot build, I cannot understand.
—Richard Feynman, physicist. as quoted by Craig Venter & encoded as a watermark in DNA of the first ever synthetic organism.

Clouds & ClocksAll they have in common are the first three letters.
You can disassemble clocks. You can reduce them to their parts, then put them back together. You can't do that with clouds. Therein lies the difference between reductionism and emergent systems, as well as reductionism & the unnameable. It depends on your point of view.

More Is Different: EmergenceAs P.W. Anderson had it, here is a broken symmetry. A new level of understanding must be created before we can move on to the next level. You cannot be explained in terms of the particles which compose you.

You are here in the Milky Way Galaxy, 1 of about 100 billion in the visible universe. This is not science-fiction.

We are all conceived in close prison, and then all our life is but a going out to the place of execution, to death. . .
But we sleep all the way. From the womb to the grave, we are never thoroughly awake.(John Donne, Sermons)

Foucault Pendulum

In 1851, Jean Bernard Léon Foucault (1819-1868) demonstrated the Earth turning. At the Paris Pantheon, the pendulum revealed reality not as it seems. Human kind
cannot bear very much reality, said TS Eliot. People are comfortable in the way things seem. Some guests in 1851 thought the pendulum moved with Earth stationary. But gravity kept it moving in the same plane as Earth turned along with the building from which it hung. They felt none of it, just as we feel none of the following phenomena. Earth rotates about 1000 mph (1680 kph) on its axis. At 66,000 mph it fully orbits the sun once a year. With Earth & other planets in tow, the sun orbits our Milky Way galaxy at 483,000 mph, completing the orbit every 230 million years. Somehow the pendulum ignores these "local" motions and aligns with its original orientation. How can this be? Nobody understands why it swings relative to the universe as a whole, but that seems to be the case.

8/19/14

Elly Beinhorn, The Most Famous Aviatrix You Never Heard Of

Mention Elly Beinhorn to somebody today and he or she will look at you blankly.
Not so, in the era between World Wars One and Two. During the twenties and thirties, hers was a household name on many continents. She was an aviatrix, a daring young woman in the mold of Amelia Earhart. Like other such women of her time, her goals were not properly feminine. Yet as she became famous, people said her flying skills were exceeded only by her femininity. That was it, a most unwomanly thing. She wanted to fly an aeroplane around the world. Alone. Her mother wept and her father threatened to send her to a psychiatrist, but an aunt had died and left Elly a little money.
It all began when friends took her along to a lecture by a well-known German pilot Hauptmann Hermann Kohl, who had just flown the Atlantic.

Born in Hannover, Germany in 1907, at 21, Elly thought if a man could do that so could she. Taking a small Berlin flat she took flying lessons and soloed just before her money ran out. Her instructor suggested she get an aerobatic license and stunt fly. Soon she was making good money at air shows all over Germany each weekend. This was 1929.

WWI was over. Germany was in deep depression. A wheelbarrow of marks couldn't buy a pack of cigarettes, wrote Ernest Hemingway as foreign correspondent. Elly saw all of this, but she was young, and her eyes were on the horizon, not on Germany.

In the photo she is getting her luggage after a flight. A man in German uniform watches.

As Hitler gathered power, she embarked on a global adventure. With photo-journalism contracts from several publications, she flew a scientific expedition to West Africa. All went well until flying solo over the Sahara when she suffered engine failure and landed in the middle of the desert.

She sighted several searching planes, which couldn't see her. After several days a few Tauregs came upon her, and examined the strange thing, a plane, a creature seemingly fallen from the sky. Lepers, they were outcast from their tribe, but helped her find a caravan, where she hitched a ride on a camel to that remotest of outposts, Timbuktu.

She did continue her journey, but that is a far longer story. She married famous German motorcycle and race car driver Bernd Rosemeyer in the 1930s. In order to have a competition license, he had to belong to the Storm Troopers, or SA. As a top driver for Auto Union, he was required by Heinrich Himmler to also belong to the SS, although he never wore the uniform. He was killed in 1938 on the Frankfurt-Darmstadt autobahn, built by Hitler for his Third Reich. That stretch of the bahn is one I often traveled when living in Germany. On the southbound side and where he crashed, it had a monument with plaque in memory of Rosemeyer.

As to her global flight, here is a clipping from the New York Times, June 5, 1932:

In 1937 she flew across the United States and became good friends with Amelia Earhart. In 1959 she accepted an invitation to take part in the Powder Puff Derby in the States. At the Derby she learned from The Ninety-Nines, otherwise known as International Organization of Women Pilots, that they wanted to produce an Amelia Earhart stamp. But the production had been held up due to insufficient funding. Recalling deposits she and Bernd Rosemeyer had made twenty years before in an American bank, Elly contacted the bank to find that the amount had accumulated considerable interest. She gladly contributed the money toward a stamp in memory of her friend Amelia.

Here is a picture of her in March 30, 2003, on her 96th birthday, snow white hair, the very model of a well-coiffed lady. She is sitting in an up-scale German retirement home for an interview with a journalist.

Her son, also named Bernd Rosemeyer, is a prominent German orthopedist, who appears in a family photo taken January 25, 1938, when he was a ten week-old baby, held in the arms of his father. The elder Rosemeyer was killed three days later on the Frankfurt-Darmstadt autobahn. Her son facilitates the interview. He says, “Hallo. Mom. How do you feel today? Good? Good. We have visitors.”

The interviewer describes her as having light blue eyes. He thinks of her as a pilot who must make split-second decisions. "She has seen, checked, validated, and acquired us: she is again mastering the scenario, ready to cope with the expected and the unexpected."

Later in the interview, Bernd asks about a photo of her next an airplane. The old mastery, unfortunately, has gone. The account goes like this.

"What make of plane is that?"

"A Klemm," she replies.

It is not. Fuselage lettering reveals it as Heinkel. Bernd tells her so.

"No, I've never flown Heinkels," she says.

During the interview she recalls that in the days she flew into Africa, across other continents, and over oceans, she had no radio and could rely only on compass, experience, and the seat of her pants, the sensation most trusted by pilots of her era.

Professor Ferdinand Porsch, inventor of Hitler’s Volkswagen, or People’s Car, and the fancier one, the sleek vehicle that is his namesake.

She mentions many others. Among those she doesn't mention is Richard Halliburton, also long forgotten. He was a celebrated travel writer and adventurer of the same era, who was lost at sea on a Chinese junk bound out of Hong Kong to the 1939 San Francisco World's fair. He and Moye Stephens also flew around the world and they crossed paths with her in India, Timbuktu, and elsewhere. He wrote an introduction to her book, Flying Girl. He said this about her: "Elly was an expert mechanic. . . Cylinders, spark-plugs, and piston rings were just so much knitting to her. She thought nothing of standing an entire day in her overalls, with monkey-wrench and oil can, dismembering engines. But when sundown came, she'd disappear for half an hour and emerge in evening dress, looking so lovely, so fragrant, so feminine, that Stephens and I were enchanted all over again each time.

A difference between Elli and Halliburton is that he died a bachelor in 1939, in a typhoon while sailing in a Chinese junk from Hong Kong for San Francisco; she lived long enough to tell her grandchildren many times about her feats of daring.

Elly died on November 28, 2007, at 100 years old in a home for the elderly near Munich, Germany. A German obituary stated that after the funeral service the family received condolences at Ottobrunn, near Munich. It explained that in 1936 she married Bernd Rosemeyer, the most successful Auto Union Grand Prix driver and that she would be buried next him the the Dahlem district of Berlin.

Don't Die in Bed: The Brief, Intense Life of Richard Halliburton covers Elly.

spiritrambler(at)gmail.com

Like a long-legged fly upon the stream
His mind moves upon silence. W.B.Yeats

I have had a dream, past the wit of
man to say what dream it was.A Midsummer Night's Dream, Iv, i.&nbsp
On John Van Druten's gravestone

Martians are discussing humans, after one of them has visited Earth:
"These creatures are the only sentient race in the sector and they're made out of meat. . . .They're meat all the way through."
"No brain?"
"Oh, there is a brain all right. It's just that the brain is made out of meat."
"So . . .what does the thinking?"
"You're not understanding, are you? The brain does the thinking. The meat."
"Thinking meat! You're asking me to believe in thinking meat!"
"Yes, thinking meat! Conscious meat! Loving meat. Dreaming meat. The meat is the whole deal. Are you getting the picture?"
(From "They're Made out of Meat" by Terry Bisson. Of such a contention, Colin McGinn says we are not equipped to explain the experience of consciousness.)

Douglas Hofstadter:What Do We Mean When We Say "I"?

God and the Devil are talking, looking down at the desert where one of God's chosen is having a sacred vision. "You see," says God.” Now you will be out of business because my child has realized the Truth."Not at all," says the Devil. "I will help him organize it."

The force that through the green fuse drives the flower/
Drives my green age; that blasts the roots of trees/
Is my destroyer./
And I am dumb to tell the crooked rose/
My youth is bent by the same wintry fever.
Dylan Thomas

Time is the school in which we learn.

Time is the fire in which we burn.(Delmore Schwarz)

It is utterly beyond our power to measure the changes of things by time. Quite the contrary, time is an abstraction at which we arrive by means of the changes of things. &nbsp Ernst Mach

I know only that what is moral is what you feel good after and what is immoral is what you feel bad after. Ernest HemingwayI can imagine Jack The Ripper also saying this. John